


Make Believe

by thosebowleggedhunters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gabriel knows everything about everyone, Little bit of Fluff, M/M, adding relationships and tags as I go, dean's not as straight as he pretends to be, pretend!boyfriends, probably alot of angst and weird pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-11 17:15:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thosebowleggedhunters/pseuds/thosebowleggedhunters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the top 10 things that Castiel regrets, dating Balthazar, dumping Balthazar, and inexplicably falling in love with Dean Winchester in the process, are among the top 3.</p><p>Castiel has never been good at on the spot thinking. </p><p>And Dean isnt as adept at best friend telepathy as he should be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crazy Eyes and Telepathy

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd (a loooooong time ago) by Lily and Alesha (lost you're URL's, so sorry)
> 
> If you're here for a Balth/Cas story, you've come to the wrong place. Cas is insistently DONE with Balthazar.

"I promise, it’s not you. It's me." 

It was definitely him.

"Cas, are you...are you breaking up with me? Balthazar asked incredulously over the sound of crashing waves.

Cas had brough him to the beach for " _The Break-Up Talk_ ", plenty of people, lots of places to run and hide if need be. They were currently blocked from most of the people on the beach by a stunted tree line that separated the breach from the path leading back to the boardwalk. He knows that, technically, Balthazar can't and won't do anything nasty to him, but he remains cautious all the same. Heaven knows what Balth thought Castiel had brough him here for, but he obviously wasn't expecting this. 

"Yes, Balthazar. I'm sorry, it's just not the same. I don’t feel the same way anymore." he said, kneeding his shoes in the pebbly sand.

Not that Castiel had felt any way in particular, even in the beginning.

"But ... I love you." He pleaded, accent dragging over his vowels, grabbing both of Castiel’s hands.

Castiel rolled his eyes and heaved out a sigh. It was a summer fling. Balthazar had available lips, and Castiel had been _bored_.

"Once school starts it will be harder to see each other."

"Cas, we go to the same school." Balthazar said bluntly, annoyed disbelief playing over his features.

"Look, I know it's hard, but it's just something we have to do." Castiel persisted, blatantly ignoring any and all of Balthazar’s protests.

He stared at Castiel's face, looking for a hint that this was some bad joke, some prank. His face darkened when he found none.

"This isn’t over, Castiel." Balthazar drawled indignantly, releasing his hands.

"Funnily enough, it is." Castiel bit out, agitated that Balthazar wasn't just letting him go like he had hoped.

"Babe, you'll be running back to me before you know it." Balthazar scoffed, before turning on his heel and storming away, nearly tripping over a rock sticking out from a crest of sand, but continuing to staunter on towards the path.

Castiel sighed and plonked his butt down on the sand, facing the waves. Well. That probably could have gone better.

If Castiel was nervous about how Balthazar would react before, he was terrified now. The boy was ruthless when it came to getting what he wanted, and no doubt, he still wanted Cas, for  _some_ damn reason.

He sighed heavily again and drew his knees up to his chest, hugging them close and resting his chin on them. He closed his eyes for awhile, letting the  _wssh_ of the waves soothe his frazzled thoughts. 

* * *

 

"Hey, assbutt." Dean Winchester called from a few paces down the hall, backpack slung over one shoulder, not-so-subtly checking out the busty sophmore on the other side of the narrow passage. 

"Don't talk to me," Castiel huffed as Dean drew closer, concentrating on prying open his locker.

The locker bay was full of burgundy lockers that _had_ to be the shittiest in all of Kansas. Shurley Academy was known for having terrible lockers, and each year the students were granted the pleasure of working their arm muscles to an excruciating extent by exercising the brute force necessary to pry the doors open. Castiel’s personal locker this year seemed to be one of the nastier ones. The one's that only opened when it wasn't of utmost importance, and wielding shut when he needed to retrieve the contents ironically locked inside. 

"What’s up with you?" Dean asked, returning his attention to his struggling friend.

"Didn't I just say not to—Christ!" Castiel’s locker decided it was time to open with ease, rendering his monster grip on the handle to be far too much.

He fell backwards, crash landing a foot away, arms and legs splayed out with blue eyes narrowed in frustration at the locker. He could almost feel it laughing at him.

"Life sucks." he commented from the floor, turning his gaze on his best friend, Dean Winchester.

"Jesus Novak, don’t be such a grump, it’s only the first day of school." Dean said, extending a hand to help Castiel up from the floor.

"Exactly. It's the first day of school." Castiel sighed, taking the offered hand.

"Oh, come on!" Dean chided, pulling Castiel to his feet.

He flung an arm around his friends’s shoulders and leaned heavily into his side, forcing Castiel to adjust his stance to manage the weight of his friend.

"It's our senior year. Think about it. It's your _last_ first day with a crap-ass locker."

"Thank you, but that doesn't make up for the fact —oh _hell_ no!" Castiel yelped, while extracting himself from under Dean’s arm and running back to his now open locker. He began a futile attempt to fit his one hundred and twenty pound frame within its small confines, closing the door as much as he possibly could.

"Uh, Cas, what the hell are you doing?" Dean asked leaning around the half-closed locker door.

"He's coming!" Castiel hissed, trying to wriggle farther back into the locker to no avail.

"Oh God!" Dean shouted in mock-terror, slapping his hands over his mouth for affect. "Not _Him_! I have too many sins to confess before the apocalypse comes and takes me to my tragic, and untimely death! The ladies will forever mourn the loss!"

"Not Jesus, you jerk. Balthazar." Castiel moaned, hitting his head against the edge of the locker door with a soft thud.

"Isn't he supposed to be a catch?" Dean narrowed his eyes in confusion.

"Yes, but I dated him, broke up with him, and now it's his new mission in life to win me back. Or something."

Time slowed as Balthazar drew closer, and fitting into the cramped locker was not going according to plan. He had managed to get most of his body inside, but his knees and head refused to fold themselves into the correct position. He briefly realized why bodies were usually dead before they were stuffed into car trunks and the like.

"You dated Balthazar? Are you trying to tell me you dated Balthazar Freely?" Dean barked out disbelieving a laugh.

"But you're such a dork." He continued, as if he was unable to process the fact that Balthazar  was an idiot, because according to Dean, Castiel only adept at attracting idiots of all shapes, sizes and genders.

"I know! And shut up! Just help me—" Castiel grunted desperately at his friend, in a last effort to cram his body into the musty locker.

"Hey Castiel," Balthazar drawled, appearing next to Dean, all grey eyes and long legs.

Castiel was beginning to wish for some sort of apocalypse, anything to remove himself from the current situation.

"What, pray tell, are you doing?" matching the look Dean had given him minutes before as he fought his way backwards into the locker.

"Good question… Dean?" But Dean just stared at him with wide eyes.

Thinking on his feet had never been Castiel’s strong suit. But it was time to act, and nip the Balthazar problem in the bud. Let him know there was no chance in Hell that he would date him again. it was easy, all Cas had to do was tell him. Straight up. Address the problem. Be a _man,_ Castiel. Balthazar migth be hurt, but he didn't particularly care about his little feelings. His brain to mouth filter malfunctioned and he began lying out his ass instead.

"Uh, Dean and I were arguing about how small you had to be to fit into the lockers, and I was trying to prove to him that I could fit in them. Right, sweetie?" He stumbled over the pet-name as he pushed himself out of the locker. He sidled up next to Dean and wrapped an arm around his waist, holding Dean tightly against his side.

"Sweetie?" Dean sputtered, flinching at the unusual contact and pet-name, attempting to twist away, but didn’t get very far, due to Castiel’s hand firmly locked on his hip.

"Yes!" Castiel turned his head to smile at Dean, trying to transfer his plan via eye contact and subtle telepathy.

“What in the-” Dean started to ask in a whisper.

Castiel pinched Dean's side and stressed the smile on his face. He probably looked slightly unstable, but as Dean’s Cro-Magnon skull was deflecting his telepathy, it was the best he could do. All the better to deter Balthazar.

Dean squirmed against him at the increasing pressure on his side, but _thankfully,_ seemed to finally understand what Cas was trying to communicate to him. Maybe it was the telepathy. Maybe it was the crazy eyes.

"Uh, yeah. And you were totally wrong ... babe."

"You two are dating?" Balthazar's previous look of confusion deepened into something just short of hilariously overwhelmed.

"Yes. Yes we are." Castiel leant his head onto Dean's shoulder with the fake smile still plastered on.

"Oh," Balthazar replied curtly, shoving his hands in his pockets and sizing up the pair of them. "Well, I'll see you around Cas."

Before he turned away, Balthazar shifted his gaze solely to Dean, and sized him up like he was trying to decide whether he was worth the fight. He narrowed his pale eyes and stormed off in the direction he'd come from, as if accepting Dean as a suitable adversary. Castiel knew he'd be back later, to make a mess of things.

As he watched the lanky form of Balthazar retreat down the hall, Cas let out a massive sigh and distangled himself from Dean. He turned to his friend to continue their conversation before they'd been so _rudely_ interrupted. However, the enraged look on Dean’s face was rather unexpected and may have just complicated things ten-fold.

Damnable telepathy.


	2. Cooty Shot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-beta'd, unless you count this [ Hemingway app](http://hemingwayapp.com/). Which I don't.

“What the motherfuck was that!” Dean roared, hands fisted in the front of Castiel’s sweater.

“I’m sorry Dean, I was desperate!” Castiel gasped for breath.

"I don't want to date you!" Dean hissed, lifting Castiel against the lockers. His toes skimmed the ground, and he gripped Dean’s wrists tightly to keep himself from slipping down.

"The feeling is mutual, now will you please put me down?"

Dean released his grip on Castiel and allowed him to slide back to the ground. Dean leant back against the lockers to compose himself, flexing his hands and cracking his knuckles out of habit. Castiel returned to his locker to collect his books and hip check the locker several times to get it to close.

"What will Lisa think?" Dean asked suddenly, face ashen.

Lisa was the girl Dean was actually interested in, but never had a chance with unless he got her so drunk she consented to something crazy in that gray area stage.

"That you suddenly went queer for your best friend and we're dating, obviously."

"Hilarious, Cas." he said, stepping up to Cas, glaring down at him.

The anger in his eyes was evident. Cas knew he had over stepped the best friend boundaries, by assuming it was okay to used him as an easy escape. In Castiel’s defense, Dean was his over-protective best friend, and by default should be keeping creeps like Balthazar away at any cost.

"Look. We just have to do this long enough to convince Balthazar that we're actually dating so he can move on, and then we can break up and repress this memory." Castiel murmured, taking a step back and chewing on his bottom lip.

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this." Dean leaned up against the lockers beside Cas and shook his head in disapproval.

"Don't worry. You'll be able to go back to pretending you have a chance with Lisa soon."

Castiel slung his bag over his shoulders.

"Now walk me to homeroom.”

“What? Why?”

“Isn’t that something couples do?”

Dean sighed, shrugged and shook his head, but turned and followed Cas to Biology.

* * *

 

Lunchtime arrived after a blur of morning classes filled with administrative duties and reading over the same rules in each class agonizingly slow. The cafeteria was were the majority of the high school was congregated at once. It was also, as Castiel had seen many times in the past 3 years, the best place to showcase a new relationship. Lunch was the time to talk about gossip and make gossip, and if there was one thing high schoolers at Shurley Academy loved it was gossip.

"Who are you looking for?" Gabriel asked around a mouthful of sandwich, noticing that Castiel had his eyes glued to the entrance and that he was only mildly interested on the run down of who did what with who over the summer.

"Dean." he replied, trying to look as wistful as possible. Lying to Gabriel was easy, and it was the best way to get the news of the new couple around school as fast as possible.

"Dean? As in Winchester?" Gabriel questioned. The look must have sufficed to drag his attention from the past to the present.

"Yeah. We're dating."

Gabriel’s eyes widened as he set down his sandwich, "You’re joking right? Cas, tell me you’re joking."

“Not joking.”

Gabriel’s jaw dropped, and little bits of sandwich fell from the sides of his mouth. When juicy gossip was afoot there was no need to use good manners.

“But… since when?” he asked, his eyes glazing over like he’d just spotted a chocolate something or another off in the distance.

"Since this morning. And please finish chewing before you do that again."

"Well don't surprise me like that! I mean, I always knew that you two were perfect for each other, but honestly Cassie, this is quite a surprise!"

“You always…what? Hey! Gabriel, wait!”

Gabriel collected the rest of his lunch, winked at Castiel, and flounced off to table of gossiping girls across the caf. Within minutes they were all staring at the table, giggling and not-so-subtly pointing at the pair sitting at the table Gabriel just abandoned.

"Who's perfect for each other?" Dean asked from the seat across from Castiel, the one Gabriel had just vacated, and dug into his lunch.

Castiel’s eyes lingered on the table of over excited fools, shaking his head, before suggesting, "We should probably work on the story on how it all began. I suspect people will be asking soon."

"It's simple. You drugged me. Don't lie to me. That's how you got Freely."

"What drug would make him keep perusing me after I was done with him?"

"Something time released?" Dean joked, paused to think about what he just said, and broke into a fit of obnoxious laughter.

"Hilarious. I should've chosen a smarter boyfriend." Castiel huffed and put is face in his arms, no longer hungry.

"Beggars can't be choosers, and it's simple.” Dean said, tapping Castiel on the head with a finger. “We just tell everyone that I've liked you since forever and I only built up the courage to ask you out for senior year. We can just ad lib the rest. It's the classic best friend dating situation."

They continued to eat our lunch in silence, stealing glances at various groups of people watching them . Castiel realized that a realistic relationship would be tricky under the watchful gaze of Gabriel's minions. Some people work their ass off all high school to be Valedictorian or MVP. Gabriel worked to know everything about everyone. He knew what everyone had for lunch each day, everyone’s weekend plan, and the blood type of every person in the entire school. He knew who to go to if he ever need a blood transfusion. It was relatively disturbing and creeper-esque, but that worked for him.

"Hey," Dean tilted his head towards the table across from them, "Your boyfriend is staring at us."

Cas turned to find Balthazar eating his sandwich in hate, staring at us through narrowed eyes.

"Fantastic. Now begins the process of Balthazar trying to figure out what you, a dorky mean kid, has over him."

"Okay one. I’m only mean to you because you can handle it. It’s how I show moderate affection. Two. So what?"

"Well soon he'll come to terms with the fact that he can never have me, and he'll have to move on." Cas explained smiling, an off-kilter smile that came with good planning and great friends.

"Yes. I'm sure that's exactly how it will go. He'll never try to win you back or anything. You know, like in those stupid romantic comedies."

"You mean those stupid romantic comedies that you adore?" Castiel questioned, attempting to watch Balth out of the corner of his eye.

"Castiel James Novak you said you’d never—”

"Shut up and hold my hand. Gabriel looks suspicious."

Cas reached out for Dean's hand that lay inactive on the lunch table. Dean rotated his hand to be palm up for Castiel to grab.

"Ugh, it’s touching me!" Dean whined with a pained expression, though not withdrawing his hand.

"I got my cooty shot, calm down."

"I'm more worried about the unknown diseases that hand could carry. It must've stroked Freely's penis."

"Oh my God, Dean, you’ve known me for how long? I wash my hands."

"Well, that wasn't a no," a devious grin grew on Dean's face. "It was veiny wasn't it? I bet he doesn't even keep it clean."

Castiel drops his head down to the table with a thud. He can’t believe this. His hand is warm in Dean's and he tries very hard to pretend it's someone else's. Dean chuckles from somewhere above him and stokes his thumb over the back of Cas's hand.

He stops pretending shortly after.


End file.
